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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930551">The Choices We Couldn’t Make</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoFi_Vibes/pseuds/LoFi_Vibes'>LoFi_Vibes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Hunger Games, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, First Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In-Panem AU, References to Teen Pregnancy, Rumors, Unreliable Narrator, only sometimes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:54:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoFi_Vibes/pseuds/LoFi_Vibes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My brother’s and I paternity was the worst kept secret in all of District 12. Might be in all of Panem. </p><p>It seemed like no one could agree on how my parents arrangement started. I always overheard my grandmother tell her circle of friends how my mother was nothing but a Seam whore trying to trap a Merchant boy and that my father was an easy target. At the Hob, my brother relays to me how they warn their children that he used his silver tongue to charm my mother into leave her coal miner lover for him.</p><p>What everyone could agree on was the outcome of their relationship sent our family into a whirlwind that would follow us forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So during quarantine I decided to get into reading old Hunger Games fanfic I used to read in middle school. This was an idea I had so I decided to write down as much as I could before the idea ran off. I hope y’all enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes it feels as if my existence is nothing more than those trashy Capitol novellas that my grandmother likes to watch in her free time. In school, at town, and during those rare times I accompany my brother to the Hob, whispers follow us around prodding into our lives. I feel compelled as the older one to keep my head high for him. I can’t help but to feel guilty that Rye is subjected with me to being the District’s pariah. I guess that’s why we have a closer bond than most siblings.</p><p>“Willow!”</p><p>My whole body tenses as my grandmother comes behind me. Who knows what I did wrong today. Maybe I iced the cookies in the wrong shade of green or some other trivial thing she wants to lecture me about. I don’t know what my grandmother thought about housing me and Rye 14 years ago; it feels exhausting being her daily verbal punching bag. Better me than him.</p><p>“Yes, Ma’am?” I reply. I hope that my voice doesn’t quiver enough to make her relish in her power over me.</p><p>“Where is the boy? He was supposed to be back an hour ago to help out with the toasting cake orders!” I can’t see why we need him. There’s only two cakes to be done and the clients gave us a two week deadline. She knows well that I’m more than capable of doing the cakes on time, so I figure today she wants to complain about my and my brother’s “ungratefulness”.</p><p>“I don’t know. Rye said he was going to the Upper School. I think today are wrestling try outs.”</p><p>She stares me down as I go back to kneading the bread for the day. Grandmother seems pleased with my answers as she heads to the counter.</p><p>“You know, with how much Rye reminds me of <em>that man</em>, I better keep a closer eye on him. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at the mayor’s son. I just hope you haven’t inherited <em>her</em> behaviors.”</p><p><strong>I am going to kill her,</strong> I quickly think. The fact that she managed to bring them up causes a reaction that I see gives her satisfaction as she turns to me flushed with embarrassment. At least I know I was right about grandmother being in the mood to complain.</p><p>“If it weren’t for me, you and Rye would be nothing more than Seam bastards running amok and waiting to die in those mines or follow suit and pop out more Seam trash. Seeing your brother trying to become like his father will tarnish the name more than he did. Not to mention what scandal will come out if people get any idea about you and the mayor’s son-“</p><p>“Michael. His name is Michael.” If I’m going to be accused of being a “Seam whore” as my grandmother calls them, might as well make it as accurate as possible.</p><p>“Don’t get smart with me, girl.” She quickly snaps. At times like this I wonder how I’m directly related to her.</p><p>I can tell this might escalate into an argument that I’m not in the mood for. That and if I get into this argument, I’ll be distracted from putting out bread to fill our weekly quota then grandmother will quickly blame me when times get tough again.</p><p>“The Mellark name has already been dragged through the mud with your father’s antics and me taking you two in. I at least expect you to try not to prove these rumors correct.”</p><p>She sounds like she was almost pleading with me. Almost. I can’t deny the looks that grandmother also gets whenever Rye or I go with her to the local shops in town. I won’t say they’re as bad as the things Rye and I are subjected to, but I can tell that she desperately wants to keep the façade of everything being normal before my parents relationship was announced. I can see where I get my stubbornness pride from. If one person was going to keep the family reputation together, it was going to be Miriam Mellark. Or she’d at least die trying.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep Rye in line when school is back in session,” the next part makes it feel like my chest is collapsing “and I’ll keep my distance from Michael. I know how important it is to make sure we don’t have any more reasons for the District to laugh at us.”</p><p>My grandmother looks back at me to see if I mean anything I just said. She must be pleased for the results because the statement that comes out of her mouth gets me more than I bargained for.</p><p>“After you get that batch done, you’re off for the rest of the day. Your brother can pick up the slack for not letting me know he was going to be gone all morning.” I don’t want Rye to come home to a lecture so I try to soften the blow for him.</p><p>“Well with his commitment to the bakery, and with school coming up, it makes sense he forgot to tel you. You know out of the two of us he was more of the spacey one.” I laugh a bit at the end because it is true. It makes people irritated by him, but to me, it makes him endearing.</p><p>“That boy. He’s the one I’m worried about. Make sure that you go to the school to collect him. Don’t want him running off to the Seam.”</p><p>I know what she’s inferring. It’s not the first time he’s gone to the Seam, the coal mining part of the District, to see them. Grandmother always catches him before he can find their house. One time, she was screaming at him because he managed to find our Aunt’s house. Luckily, he wasn’t there long enough to ask her questions. What I can never shake from my mind is the solemn eyes staring at my brother and I. In another life, I probably would’ve been at her house all the time, spending the holidays with her and my mother. It saddens me a bit that 14 years ago, around Rye’s birth was the last time I saw her. The only memory that I can hold onto was that she is a healer.</p><p>“Okay, Grandmother. Any other errands I need to run?”</p><p>“We should be fine for now. Go on back to work.”</p><hr/><p>Once I go outside, I take in the late summer breeze. Having time off is rare to kids in the Merchant Section, so I try to enjoy my stroll to the Upper School as long as I can. In one week, I’ll have to go back to school. I don’t necessarily mind it; I’d say I’m an excellent student, especially in art, but that’s about where it ends. Mine and Rye’s peers use school as an opportunity to delve into our lives and gossip. Rye is starting Upper School so I’ll have to play “Protective Big Sister” in the halls again. A selfish part of me hopes that Rye doesn’t have as much success as I did making friends, so that we can both eat lunch together. Michael Shaffer, the mayor’s son, is usually my lunchtime companion, but my grandmother’s words are sprouting all over my brain. Would he be damned an outcast if the District thinks our association is more than acquaintances?</p><p>My thoughts keep running as I stop in front of the Upper School. I see a string of boys helping out put up the mats but none of them are the familiar stocky blond boy that I know. I must look vulnerable because the coach comes up to me asking if I’m lost.</p><p>“Actually, is Rye Mellark still in the school? He told me he was trying out for the wrestling team.”</p><p>He looks more confused as I say that. He must think I’m messing with him because he grins back at me trying to hold in a laugh.</p><p>“I don’t know what <em>Mellark</em> told you but try outs were a month ago. Today was practice for our varsity teams. Can I ask who’s asking for him?” I don’t know what is it about him but I already have a bad feeling about him. The way he holds himself and the tone he used when he talked about Rye made me scowl.</p><p>“Willow Mellark. His sister. Did he come by the school?” I try to even my tone but I know it’s a fruitless attempt. Grandmother would’ve been displeased if she knew I was talking to an adult like this. Maybe he would’ve earned my decency if he didn’t talk down about Rye like our classmates do.</p><p>“Seeing as Mellark isn’t on the varsity team the answer is no. Now why don’t you run along while I get back to work.” He dismisses me as if I was a nuisance to his work. If I thought I disliked him before, I loathed him now. I walk out the gym as I hear a familiar voice.</p><p>“Willow?”</p><p>I turn to see Hunter Hawthorne staring at me. I don’t know him much as he’s more of my brother’s friend. Well, as close of a friends him and I can get in this district. I used to play with his older brother, Orion, but when I was taken to my grandmother’s I didn’t see him much anymore. The only reason I know they’re okay is that Orion and Hunter come every Saturday to trade with us. I mostly send Rye to them to keep up with the bakery and to watch out for grandmother. To her, her grandchildren interacting with any Seam folk will undo all the work she’s done to make us good Merchant children. With all the rumors still surrounding us, her attempts are in vain.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>I don’t know why Hunter intimidates me. Sure, he’s taller than me, goes into the woods to hunt, but I’m pretty sure I can hold my own against him. My grandmother would have a heart attack if she found out I was the one to teach Rye those wrestling moves. I don’t want to think it’s because of the Seam/Merchant prejudice my grandmother has instilled inside of us. I may be only a quarter Seam-if the rumors are to be true-but to have a Seam parent is basically a death sentence in social status. I can tell the silence is getting awkward so I try to refocus on Mission: Get Rye.</p><p>“Have you seen Rye? He told me he was going to be here but the wrestling coach said he never showed up.”</p><p>He must snap out of whatever daze he was in because now his whole demeanor has changed. He’s stick straight which makes him look even more taller than he is slouching.</p><p>”Well, uh, I can’t say I haven’t seen him. But if I did see him, I most definitely wouldn’t know where he went or what motive he had to go there. Have you ever tried Greasy Sae’s stew? I mean, of course you haven’t, you only go to The Hob if Rye is there, which even then isn’t a lot. Did you cut your hair because it flatters your,” he looks over my face like he’s trying to read a fine print far away, “your nose?”</p><p>Okay, time to put a stop to this before he tells me my slacks bring out the color of my nail beds. In fact, this is probably the most someone has inquired about me that didn’t have to do with my parents.</p><p>“You know something don’t you? Where is he?” I make sure to put on my “Willow Scowl” that Rye likes to lovingly tease about. With how hard Hunter tries not to tremble I only hope he hasn’t fulfilled that foolish fantasy about hunting in the woods. Even though I haven’t talked to him in years, I’ll have to have a word with Orion if the boys are in the woods.</p><p>”Willow, you can’t blame me for helping out a friend! We tried to tell him the repercussions if he sought her out, but he was so excited about finding Prim’s house that he just didn’t want to give up and-“</p><p>“Hold on, who’s Prim? Is that a new girl Rye is obsessed with?” Of course he would go off to a new beau. It’s because of his romanticism of every crush he has that grandmother is strict about Michael and I. I just hope that this girl’s parents don’t try to call the Peacekeepers on him. As much as I try to support his infatuations, they always end badly with either the girl laughing at his face or the girl’s parents forbidding her to see him again.</p><p>”Primrose? I thought you knew her. You’ve been to her before. I can’t believe you already forgot her name.” Hunter muses. Something about his voice sounds sad, as if I should know who this girl is. As I stand there to think when I’ve been to a girl’s house with Rye.</p><p>No. Not her house. Rye can’t have gone back to her. I’m pretty sure the color from my face drops because Hunter tries to come close. I step away from him and run. I run to the house where I’ve seen in faint memories. No, not that house. I don’t think I’m ready to return there. I try to remember where Prim’s-Aunt Prim’s-house is. It’s weird hearing myself call her my Aunt. As far as I knew, my uncles’s wives are my aunts. But knowing about my mother’s family makes me run faster into the Seam.</p><hr/><p>I take a deep breath once I make it into the street I know Aunt Prim’s house is. I don’t know much about it. It’s close enough to the Merchant Section, but grandmother would never let us go there. I try to calm myself since I don’t know how much Rye has found out. Hell, he is probably in her house finding out more than I knew. I go down the street until I see window featuring two blonde heads. Before I go to the porch I stare and study them.</p><p>Aunt Prim looks like the perfect Merchant girl with her pale skin, what looks to be blue eyes, hair more yellow than the paint I try to recreate. It looks as if Rye took after our father more. His blond hair is more like the dandelions in the spring at the Lower School playground. Other than that he has the standard olive skin tone and gray eyes. I try to get a good look at Aunt Prim to see if I inherited her eyes. I get a good look once she sees me out her window. I’m a bit disappointed I don’t have her eyes; hers is like a clear summer sky that I enjoy so much. I can’t find anything to describe my blue eyes that I now know are my father’s. Maybe he got his eyes from grandfather since grandmother’s eyes are more like the pale, old, blue paint on the bakery walls. I’m too mesmerized by comparing eyes that I fail to notice the front door open.</p><p>“Oh hello. Would you like to come in? Or are you going to take Rye back?” She looks as dazed as Hunter was earlier. I should take Rye back, reprimand him for trying to prod into the past that did nothing but damn us as outsiders to District 12. The way she looks at me feels nostalgic, her eyes almost swelling up with tears. I look behind her to see Rye guilt ridden because he knows that whatever punishment is dealt to him, I’ll have to hear the “brother’s keeper” lecture again. Since I have the rest of the day off, I decide to do something that shocked everyone. Even myself.</p><p>”I would like to come in, please. If you don’t mind.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just wanna thank all the people who gave me kudos and my one comment! It's so relieving seeing people like your work of art so I decided to whip up this chapter before class starts for the semester.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My legs are leading me into the house before I realize what I'm doing. I shouldn't be here. Neither should Rye. <em>Rye</em><em>.</em> When we get home, I'm going to punch him or make him do my work at the bakery. I try to ignore those thoughts in my head as I take in my surroundings. I do admit though, that Aunt Prim's house is more homey than our little apartment above the bakery. I see no signs of a husband or children around, which surprises me. I look back at Aunt Prim and realize what a beauty she is. She's delicate like a spring's day, moving around her house gracefully to get me a chair. I haven't been in her presence since I was around two, but the smile she gives me as she walks into her kitchen makes it feel like Rye and I visiting is a common occurrence. I see Rye wrapped in a blanket and smile a bit since he looks like a small child and not the 14 year old starting Upper School within a week. As much as I hate seeing my annoying kid brother turn into a young man, it's moments like these that make me fortunate that grandmother was able to take us both. I've been told by her friends who lovingly call us "Seam trash" that our grandmother could've left us to rot in the district's Community Home or, god forbid, left me in the care of my heretic parents. That I should be grateful that my blood saved me and my brother and risked her reputation to bring us up as respectful members of society. The thing is, I've seen my grandmother stare at my brother and I with a mix of regret and anger. I must be letting my thoughts block out my other senses because Rye pushes my shoulders and flicks his eyes behind me to show that Aunt Prim has made me a cup of tea.</p><p>"If you're anything like your father and Rye, I take it you don't like sugar in your tea." she says. I thank her for the tea and study my Aunt Prim more. I see tears forming around her eyes as she looks between Rye and I sitting in what looks to be the living room. Her house is small with the kitchen and living room sharing a space. I look past her and see artwork hung up above the fireplace. Aunt Prim turns around to see what I'm looking at and her face flushes with pride.</p><p>"Your father painted that for me. Those are the primroses that used to grow outside of my childhood home." She turns back to look at Rye. "Are you a painter like him?" I can't help but notice the tone she used to describe my father. She talks about him like a one would reminisce about an old friend that's passed. My grandmother never as so much went above calling him "that man" or "him". It was like she wanted me to forget that her son was my father. Wow. My father. I've never allowed myself to say "my father" or "my mother as it made me dejected that I never saw them. You'd think with how small the population and size of District 12 is, I would at least see them in passing. But then again, I never allowed myself to venture out for them. Grandmother would blow a gasket if she ever found out Rye and I are in our Aunt's home. This day has me spacey during conversations because I almost didn't hear Rye correct her.</p><p>"Oh no," he chuckles. He looks proud as he states that it's I who is the family artist. "You should look at the bakery window. All of the cakes are decorated by her. At school, she won an art competition that allowed her some of the finest art supplies from the Capitol. She was also the youngest winner of the District, so who knows how awesome her paintings could be now!" I blush hearing him boast about my accomplishments. I remember that day fondly because it was the last time my grandmother said she was proud of me and the district seemed to forget all the rumors surrounding my family. I try not to remember how later into the night I heard her crying in her room. It was the first time I heard the name "Peeta" mentioned by her.</p><p>Aunt Prim looks to me and smiles brightly. "Oh, I remember how I always begged your mother to let us go to the bakery to see the cakes. They were always decorated so intricately. I learned your father actually decorated those cakes when..." she stops all of a sudden. So, 20 minutes here and I find out more about my father from my aunt who I barely know than I have in all my 15 years with my grandmother. Rye looks worried as it looks like Aunt Prim is about to cry. I was never the one to be good at comforting people cry. That was Rye's thing. On cue, Rye gets up from his seat from the small couch and goes to crouch in front of her. My heart breaks seeing this interaction. This woman may not have been around him growing up, but that doesn't matter to Rye. He's such a gentle soul despite all the scrutinizing that he's been subjected to since the day he was born. It's his kindness to both Seam and Merchant alike that makes me protective of him. I refuse to let the cruelty of this district blow out his light. His gentleness makes me glad we never ended up being raised to be coal miners. Those caves would've killed Rye's spirit before it could kill his physical body. I offer Aunt Prim a handkerchief I found on her coffee table which she gratefully accepts to dab her eyes.</p><p>"I apologize. It's just so overwhelming seeing you again. Can I hug you both?" she cries. Normally, I would never let people try to hug me except for Rye. But seeing her almost break down by the mention of my mother and seeing her niece and nephew together again, I decide to give her this. Rye takes her into one of his arm, holding the other one out for me. I walk into his arm and wrap them both in a hug. I try to hug her as tight as I can without squeezing the air out of her. I wonder how long it's been since she's seen any of her family. Rye let's go first and I linger on for a bit next to Aunt Prim. Rye then sit back down on the couch making space for her to sit at. I take my seat in the rickety chair next to the couch and sip on my tea. The blend taste severely diluted from the chamomile and green tea blend we have back home but I try not to mind it. Even tea is a luxury to some Merchant businesses including the bakery.</p><p>She collects herself soon enough and puts on a small smile for us. It's one of the few genuine smiles we ever get nowadays. She turns to me and goes "You know, Katniss was also protective of me. I would say you and her are neck and neck of being the most vigilant big sister in all of District 12. Maybe more so, Panem." For the first time during this visit, I smile. So my mother's name is Katniss. Katniss. A plant like Willow. Well, katniss is more of a root while willow is a tree, but I'll take what I can get. Still, hearing what traits and talents I've inherited from my parents is bubbling questions inside of me. I look to Rye and see he's thinking the same thing as me when it comes to questions. Before I can stop him, he goes off.</p><p>"So what were they like?" His eyes are filled with wonder and the same stubborn curiosity that got us here in the first place. I punch smack his head behind Aunt Prim for asking such an invasive question. How tone deaf could he be? We just saw what bringing them up could do, and he wants to subject her into a full blown crying fit? I'm about to tell her she doesn't have to answer that when I see her eyes look at the primrose painting and look wistful.</p><p>"They are...  the most beautiful but most tragic lovers I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Those nasty comments about them could never overpower how the true Peeta and Katniss would treat each other." She confides. Me and Rye look at each other. Peeta and Katniss. Mellark. Peeta and Katniss Mellark. Rye looks like he's about to faint learning our father's name. Being the romantic he is, I bet hearing that our parents supposedly loved each other must give him more hope in his romantic pursuits. I won't lie, hearing that made me a bit hopeful about what I could have with Michael. <strong>Stop it, you can't think like that. You promised Grandmother, </strong>I bitterly think.</p><p>Grandmother... Oh shit! "Rye let's go! I was supposed to have you home and hour an a half ago!" I yell at him. He looks like he's about to protest before I grab his arm and pull him off the couch. "I'm so sorry Aunt Prim, but we're not supposed to be here. If Grandmother finds out, she's going to have our hide chopped up and sent to the woods for the animals to eat." I hurriedly drown my tea and Rye's. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. Who knows who's seen me or Rye going into the Seam. If word gets to our grandmother, my hyperbole will become reality. "Rye come on!"</p><p>We're already out the porch and I'm pulling him down the street when Aunt Prim comes outside to yell for us.</p><p>"If you guys want, you can come back! I'll always have the door open for you!" I nod at her not wanting to let her or Rye know this will most likely be the last time we come around her house. Her yelling for a couple of her neighbors to see don't work out in our favor as we try to slip away from the Seam. I'm a couple of blocks away when pushes me off him.</p><p>"What was that about?! I almost learned about our parents!"</p><p>"You did learn about them. Their names are Peeta and Katniss Mellark. He paints, she's protective. Seems to me we've learned enough." I reply. I doubt it'll satisfy him but I need to shut down this conversation.</p><p>Rye looks at me angrily and continues on. "We learned what you got from them. I didn't get to hear about our parents or what happened to them or how they fell in love." I stop my tracks and turn to him when he says the last part.</p><p>"You saw what their "love" caused. Why would you want to strive for that?" I hiss. As much as I love that he's a dreamer, it's my job as his sister to pull him back down to Earth. I try to calm myself down and reason with him. "You don't think they really loved each other do you? A Merchant and a Seam? Who knows if what Aunt Prim said was the truth?" I walk back towards the direction of the bakery knowing Rye'll follow me. Of course, he eventually does catch up as we walk into town. I look at the corner of my eye and see how shattered he looks. Great, I try to keep his head on and it feels as if I drowned a litter of puppies. "Rye, you can't think like that. We're already in hot water with the District," I sigh. "I don't want more trouble for you than there already is."</p><p>He looks at me with his solemn gray eyes. I wonder if her-my mother's-eyes are as smoldering as his. "I just want to know where I came from. I'm tired of being hidden in the dark and everyone expecting me to be fine with that." I understand. Once upon a time, I was just as curious and stubborn as he was. I gave up on these familial pursuits as more eyes were on us as we got older. I don't want to dwell on the depressing topic of our family so I try to cheer him up. It takes awhile but once we're in the Merchant section where the bakery is, I remember something.</p><p>"Hunter Hawthorne called you his friend today." I tell him. I smile as his eyes widen in shock then his face melts into a bashful realization.</p><p>"Really? I mean, yeah we've talked during trades but it's mostly about the weather or what stuff can be worth. He really sees me as a friend?" I can tell this means so much to him. Friends aren't really in our vocabulary. Sure, Michael Shaffer could be considered a friend, but we rarely talk when we eat lunch together and with my feelings in the mix, I'm pretty sure the term "friend" can't be used to describe us. "You think when school comes next week, he'll still call me a friend?" he questions.</p><p>School. Seven days until Rye and I are back into the limelight of scandal. Hopefully, Hunter looks past the rumors and sticks by Rye during his time at school. However, considering that Hunter and Rye have known each other for around eight years, a part of me doubts that the two boys will be known as friends at school. I don't want to pop his bubble, so I try to keep his spirits up with the potential of having a friend.</p><p>"Of course, he will." I don't want Rye to be too hopeful so I add in "but if he feels as if he's not cool enough to be friends with Rye Mellark, you can always come into the cool kids table with me and Michael Shaffer." I joke.</p><p>"Wow, cause I definitely want to have my sister and her sort of boyfriend as my only friends at school." he lamely replies. I scowl at him as he says that but all he does is laugh. "Ok, Will, I'll at least swing by the "cool" kids table even if I do have friends. Can't forget my first friend just because I'm a man now" I roll my eyes when he rubs his imaginary beard. We finally make it to the front of the bakery when I remember Grandmother's words.</p><p>"By the way, since you didn't tell Grandmother you'd be gone all morning, you're taking the rest of the afternoon shifts. Also, if she asks, you went to wrestling try outs. Which of course I will talk about later tonight about why you lied to me."</p><p>"Ah, so that's how you know Hunter Hawthorne called me a friend. In my defense, I am on the junior varsity team. Coach Asbury is totally out to get me, though! I beat almost all of the dudes on the varsity team but had the audacity to put me in JV." he pouts. Gosh, he really is a younger brother. But know I know the name of the dreaded coach, so I will keep an eye out on Rye whenever he's with him.</p><p>"Well, win all of your matches and I'm sure Asbury can't deny you'd do good on the varsity team." I comfort. Once we arrive at the bakery and open the front door, we're instantly yelled at.</p><p>"Where have you two been?! Rye, Willow, get back in the kitchen and catch up on all the work you two missed"" She snaps. I don't even bother to mention she promised me the rest of the day off, so Rye and I dutifully go into the kitchen. Once Rye is spreading flower on the counter and I'm putting eggs in the mixing bowl, we almost don't hear the front door open until we look at Grandmother standing stiffly still. Rye gets a closer look through the kitchen window on the door and holds himself by the wall once he sees what made Grandmother paralyzed. I look next to him and see a man. </p><p>It's not any man though. He looks to be your average Merchant man, but unlike the ones we've seen growing up, he's covered in coal dust. I don't think the man or Grandmother notice us since they're still in a standoff. I want to drag Rye back to work, but I can't. I think he knows exactly who this man is. Stocky build, blond hair that I associated with Rye is on this man. When I look at his eyes, he has the same confusing shade of blue that I have seen on myself everyday in my reflection. I hold myself next to Rye and feel like throwing up my breakfast. Grandmother looks to break the spell this man put on her and quickly goes in front of the bakery display. We can hear her yelling but not the words. I look to Rye and see him fighting between going to work or going to see if the man is actually real. I look at the scene in front of us and pull him away to the countertop. He looks to me for confirmation. I nod at him and get back to mixing the batch. I should've known Aunt Prim's visit would've summoned him. I knew I should've stopped Rye when I found him there.</p><p>I knew my father, Peeta Mellark, would to face Grandmother to try to see us.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So the last chapter was typed on my phone whereas this chapter was typed on my laptop. I hope this chapter ended up better. As always, I would really appreciate comments and critiques about my story. I think I have a clear idea of where I want this story to go, but nothing is set in stone yet. Again, I wanna thank those who supported the first chapter of my story. &lt;3 :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Holy crap guys I am so sorry. With classes coming up, I've hit the worse case of the writer's block. It seems that inspiration always comes late night. I just hope I don't set this story up nicely then pull a Game of Thornes with the ending. But school will start soon for District 12's children most likely next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>"I'll be damned if you take them away!"</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"You wretched whore, I'll make sure you can't even step foot out of your shack!"</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"Ma'am, sir, step away from the children."</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"Why are you doing this to us?!"</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"Rye! Willow!"</em> </strong>
</p><p>"Willow!" I snap up to see my brother calling me over to the oven. Once I see smoke coming out, I'm quick on his side and make sure to help air out the kitchen from the smoke while he took the trays out. Great, burnt baked goods means lost inventory which could set us short for buying more ingredients in time for the Fall Festival. Let's just hope these toasting cakes help make up for lost revenue and soothe Grandmother's temper.</p><p>"I was calling you for five minutes! It's your job to keep an eye on the ovens and now Grandmother is gonna kill us!" Rye looks over to my face and deflates when he sees I look shaken, "I'm sorry, Will. Are you still hung up over... y'know?"</p><p>I nod and he takes it as a cue to throw out the bread out to the pigs. It had been almost a week since we've visited Aunt Prim. Since our father, Peeta Mellark, stepped foot into the bakery. Already, people were swarming with theories and comments about why he was there.</p><p>
  <em>"I bet he got tired playing coal miner and thought he could waltz right in like nothing happened. What an ungrateful son." </em>
</p><p><em>"</em> <em>Well, I heard that the kids were communicating with him and he wanted to take them back to the Seam."</em></p><p>
  <em>"My cousin who heard from his neighbor who heard from the grocer who heard from Seam kids loitering said they saw Willow going into the Seam trying to meet a boy."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Looks like Rye found a new girl. Saw how Merchant girls didn't wanna look his way, so decided to go the easy route with those Seam sluts."</em>
</p><p>It's ridiculous how a mundane day in District 12 can turn into an insane week. People came to visit the bakery trying to pry any information out of us. Some came in trying to send their apologies to Grandmother about the situation. Matilda Blaffer, Rye's new infatuation, tried to ask him about the validity of the claims about him being spotted at the Seam. Her older sister, Valentine, tried to act buddy buddy with me to try to get me to budge. When I sent a glare her way, she went about her way making sure to remind me of my trashy background as she left the building. As if she were tone-deaf about what the whole district was saying about us, Grandmother came in right in front of me to drop money next to the dough I was working on.</p><p>"Rye's clothes may not fit him anymore. After you're done with this batch, drop his clothes off to Uncle Bannock's then go to the tailor's to buy your brother some respectable clothes. I don't want him to be confused with those Seam hooligans." I tried to ignore her mutters about me often getting confused as a Seam child. At first glance, my black hair makes it look as if I'm from a coal mining family. In reality though, I have more Merchant traits than Rye does. People always say he doesn't look Seam at all as if it's the greatest compliment in the world. I remember when we were younger he would always cry about me having blue eyes and pale skin because one of his peers said his eyes and skin were dirty like coal miners.</p><p>I cut the dough into equal pieces and put them on the baking sheet into the oven. I remind Rye to watch the oven as I go upstairs. I make sure to go into his room and look for the pile of clothes. I see the pile next to his desk and groan as he didn't put them in the bag. I make sure to put all of his clothes into a bag until I see something that catches my eye. When I take a closer look, I see that it's an envelope. I figure it's for Matilda and pick it up to put in the drawers, but I notice a name that's not Blaffer's. Not only that, there's a second envelope that I didn't notice I picked up and when I see the names my heart stops.</p><p>
  <em>Peeta Mellark</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Katniss Everdeen</em>
</p><p>I make sure to put the envelopes back the way they were and go downstairs with the bag of Rye's clothes. I say my goodbyes and walk to Uncle Bannock's with questions in mind.</p><p>
  <strong>When is planning to send them? Is this why he went to Aunt Prim's house? Does father know of these letters? What does Rye know that I don't?</strong>
</p><hr/><p>It takes ten minutes to make it to Uncle Bannock's house. It's probably one of the longest ten minutes of my life due to all that's been happening. I knock on a newly polished door and wait. I look around just to distract myself from even more waiting and just do what I do best. Think. You see, Uncle Bannock was practically the gold standard of District 12 citizens. By the time he graduated Upper School, he was captain of the varsity wrestling team, valedictorian for his class, and was planning to take over his sweetheart's, my Aunt Aurora, printing press business as she was an only child. My grandparents were saddened to see their perfect son couldn't take over the family business, but they (mostly Grandmother) were proud that their eldest made such an advantageous match and made the Mellarks a more desirable family. With their marriage came two boys, Farl and Henrik, named after their grandfathers. I wouldn't consider myself close to my cousins, but I'm glad to know they never took part into dragging mine and Rye's name through the mud.</p><p>I'm happy to see that Aunt Aurora is the one to answer the door. Every time I see her, it's like the sun came down to greet me. She has the usual Merchant features, but she always goes a step further to make sure she's the best dressed woman in the district. She volunteers at the Lower School's, and soon the Upper School's, events as a parent helper. Aunt Aurora makes sure to get me the newest dress to for any occasion, and hosts tea with any available Merchant wife. I think her and Madge Shaffer, the mayor's wife, are neck in neck for most gracious woman in District 12.</p><p>"Hey Willow, how have you been? It's been so long!" she chirps as she goes to pull the bag away from me. I tell her I've been fine and she seems to be pleased with my answer. Not to be rude or anything, but I'm glad we're not close enough for her to not ask questions below the surface. I know with me being the only Mellark granddaughter that her and my other Aunt, Delly, they've both have taken me as their surrogate daughter whenever the time comes. I will admit though, it's nice talking to women who are closer to my age than Grandmother. Well, now with Aunt Prim in the mix, I'm sure when I have the free time, I'll maybe sneak into her side of town for a new perspective. Maybe.</p><p>"My my little artist, you've blossomed into a young woman. Wait here, I think I have some blouses you can try on. I know orange and pinks aren't typically your colors, but it doesn't hurt to expand your wardrobe a bit. Especially since you're almost of toasting age." she winks at me. Before I can decline, she pulls my arm into the house and drags me up the stairs into her and Uncle Bannocks room. I'm immediately overwhelmed by the loud and bright colors that are thrusted in my arms. Seeing my Aunt Aurora plead silently with her eyes makes me budge.</p><p>"Fine. I'll only take three things since I have to go to the tailor's to get Rye some new clothes. I don't want to carry too much stuff." I also don't want Grandmother to think I've taken advantage of my aunt's kindness. Any time Rye or I received a gift that wasn't from her, she would yell at us for tricking these people into feeling sorry for us then taking the gifts away to give back. One time she threatened to call the Peacekeepers because she believed I stole shoes from Aunt Delly. After she came to sort the situation, Grandmother seethed at me any time I wore them.</p><p>I look to the pile and just grab a random pink cardigan that Rye can give to Matilda and find some faded black slacks I'm sure the tailor's can fix for me. After deliberating what else to take, I'm somewhat drawn to this orange tunic. Usually, I find orange an eye sore because of how bright it is; this orange is more muted and soft.</p><p>
  <em>"See that Willow? That's a sunset. Look at all the beautiful oranges, yellows, and pinks bursting together. It's one of the most beautiful colors on this planet."</em>
</p><p>I take the tunic with me for personal wardrobe. I thank Aunt Aurora as she leads me out the house as she rambles about my cousins being appreciative of Rye giving up some of his old clothes for the new school year starting tomorrow. When she closes the door for final goodbyes, I make my way to the tailor's when my peripheral vision sees a small group of people looking my way and whispering to each other about me. I don't blame them as District 12 and the Merchant life can get boring, so I'm the target of entertainment around here.</p><p>
  <em>"I heard her mother offered her father a night with her for some stale bread. Once she found out she was pregnant, she threatened him to give her family money to keep the paternity between them."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh that's bull! She was bored with being a coal miner's slut that she decided to be bold and convinced poor Peeta to take her next to the pigsty! Such a shame he fell for a Seam slut. I bet he would've married nicely had that woman kept her legs opened strictly for the Seam."</em>
</p><p>I'm shocked these people are still recycling the same formula for their stories about my parents. It's really the same depending on who you hear it from: Merchants will say my mother was a promiscuous woman who seduced my father into sleeping with her for as a scheme to get money; Seam folks, however, warned their kids about a Merchant man who exploited a poor coal miner's girl into sleeping with him then left her once he got bored. I personally think they were two stupid people in the heat of the moment who made a mistake. Although, my theory doesn't explain why they went back for more and ended up with Rye.</p><p>I walk into the tailor's shop and am immediately met with hard stare's from the tailor and his wife. Oh I get it, since my mother was a whore who had a penchant for Merchant men I must have the same unbounded lust when it comes to their son who's in my class. Not to be rude to anyone, but even if I were a whore, Otto Miller would never see me on my back for him. Not only does he have a despicable personality, his younger brother, Clement, picks on Rye whenever he can. It's funny how people think I'll falter whenever I'm met with nasty looks. I calmly set some coins down and spout out Rye's size and set some coins on the table. When the tailor goes into the back, I'm left alone with his wife. She doesn't bother trying to make small talk with me. Good. Not like I'm in the mood. I almost forget and put the pants on the counter.</p><p>"Can you fix these pants? Maybe just a cinch around the waist and leg area?" I ask. She looks at me as if I've grown two heads.</p><p>"Can you even afford that? I don't have time for you to run off to grandma, we are busy people you know." she counters. I can tell she's just trying to avoid any interaction with me. Besides, no one really come's to the tailor's unless they need a big fix fast, or they need clothes for a special occasion coming up. As I look around exaggeratingly, her hard stare turns into a glare when I look back to show there are no other people coming in today. Giving up I put 10 gold pieces on the counter. She picks up the pieces and orders me to put my pants on.</p><p>After I walk back out, she directs me to an elevated platform to stand on. She pins and picks out what fabric to cut off when the tailor comes back with Rye's clothes.</p><p>"Alright girly, this is gonna cost you 15 pieces." I look over to tell him where to look when his wife roughly pushes my head forward.</p><p>"Don't move." she snaps at me, "you were gonna make me poke your legs out then start crying about we tried to hurt you. You're lies won't work on us, so you better be careful about who you're messing with."</p><p>I set my jaw when she says that. When have I tried to get people to listen to me? Most time I'm ignored and forgotten until they're bored and want to stir drama with me. I try my best to keep Rye and I out of trouble, but no matter what, these people will never see us as anything more than trouble-making Seam bastards encroaching in their territory. When she's done with my pants, I go back to change into my regular clothes and come back out to take Rye's. The tailor and his wife whisper to each other. I try to level my breathing and calm myself down. I turn back to the pair and as gracefully as I can muster thank them for their services. The tailor scoffs, and tells me my pants will be ready within two to four days.</p><p>As I walk out I hear something that I'm pretty sure they meant for me to hear.</p><p>
  <em>"No matter how much Miriam tries you can't squash the Seam brat out of them. I'm surprised that filthy girl hasn't popped out a bastard like her mother did her age."</em>
</p><p>I wait until I'm inside of the bakery to let those words sink it. I wait until I'm in my room, all alone, to let my tears fall. I must've been crying for hours because Grandmother bangs on the door telling me dinner's almost ready. I try to level my breath and look in the mirror. My eyes are red and splotchy, an indicator that I've let those words get to me. I go to the bathroom which connects to Rye's room and splash some water on my face until my eyes are soothed. When my face is dried off, I go back into the world that routinely rejects me.</p><p>No matter how many walls I build with my isolation, these people know how to tear them down with just a single word. Sometimes I wish Grandmother would stand up for us, but most of the time she just makes excuses for them and tell me how my behavior and attitude made me susceptible to their words. That if I were just a meek girl who knew her place, more people would be more accepting of me. I know what she means by that; "People will like you when you let them walk all over you."</p><p>I don't know where this fire inside of me came from, but I do know that it's distinguishing to cold ashes with how the people of the district see me. I just hope the fire can still burn a little longer. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments, critiques, kudos, and bookmarks are severely appreciated. I think I can reply to comments now bc AO3 was really weird about it on my phone and laptop??? We'll see.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys. I'm really sorry for updating this late. With school and work, I was starting to lose motivation for continuing the story. It felt like all this story did was take time away from "important" things and I felt guilty. My boyfriend thankfully encouraged me to continue this story and to keep writing. So again, I'm sorry for the long wait, and I hope the chapter meets expectations.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up with my eyes feeling sore with all the crying I did last night. Dinner was quiet as usual with Rye trying to carry the conversation. Sometimes I'll join in with an anecdote about the customers, but with the fiasco at the tailor's I kept quiet and stirred my food around. Grandmother didn't seem to notice the change of attitude, as usual. I could've been replaced with our pig Duchess and she wouldn't mind at all. I hate that about her. It was times like those I let myself dream about what our lives with our parents would be like. I don't remember much about them, but I remember them filling the house with so much love. I hear the water running in the bathroom, letting me know Rye is awake. I don't know if he notices this signing habit he has. When I get up I notice he's singing a lullaby I faintly remember.</p>
<p>
  <em>Deep in the meadow, under the willow</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A bed of grass, a soft green pillow</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And when again they open, the sun will rise.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Here it's safe, here it's warm</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Here the daisies guard you from every harm</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Here is the place where I love you.</em>
</p>
<p>My heart stops. His voice is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. It's how many girls in the district like Matilda Blaffer fall for him. To me, it makes me remember a time where I wasn't Willow Mellark, Miriam Mellark's burden of a grandchild, but as Katniss and Peeta's daughter. My eyes tear up as he sings because now I remember her. Her voice was like a warm blanket on a summer's day. Whenever she sang the birds stopped to listen. I close my eyes to try to go back to that memory. When I do, I let out a sob recollecting her voice.</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Deep in the meadow, hidden far away</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray,</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Forget your woes and let your troubles lay</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Here it's safe, here it's warm</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Here the daisies guard you from every harm</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Here is the place where I love you.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>"Willow are you okay? I heard you sobbing and came to check up on you." I snap my eyes open and look at my little brother in front of me. Except, he's not really little anymore; he passed me in the height department this summer and grew an extra five inches. He's a young man just trying to survive the scrutiny of District 12. Someone who wants to know the secret of his past. I recall our visit to Aunt Prim and his frustration that he didn't learn much about our parents. I guess I can use this opportunity to give him some sort of closure. Or the closest I can get to it.</p>
<p>"Whenever our mother sang, the birds stopped to listen. I remember when she sang our father would stare as if she was the only person in the room." The last part I add in. But if my mother's voice is as beautiful as I remember, I'll be shocked if he didn't. I see Rye trying to school his expression as anything but excitement. Me telling him about our family history is like telling a coal mining family they won a lifetime amount of food. I smile at his goofy looking expression. Some things don't change within a young man I see.</p>
<p>"What are you two doing sitting around?! You only have two hours of prep before you have to get to school!" our grandmother huffs. Rye and I's sweet sibling moment is squashed yet again. We silently agree to get on our merry way and get ready for school. I can see Rye's nervousness as the word "school" is brought up. Teens are a lot harsher than children in the rumor department. I remember when Ember Milinsky started a rumor that I stole her boyfriend because as a prissy Merchant, I would try to seduce any Seam guy coming my way. <em>Like father, like daughter</em> they used to say. I hope the rumor mill treats Rye more kindly. Not only has it gone around that he snagged up a Blaffer, but at least I'll be there to squash anyone who tries to bother him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The walk to school tends to be quiet when it's just my brother and I. However, when we walk out the bakery door we notice two blonde heads waiting for us. Rye lights up, going in to hug Matilda Blaffer. Her older sister, Valentine, scrunches her nose at the interaction. The Blaffers own the post office in town and are one of the more prestigious families in District 12. They've never went without the newest clothes, always had to have the latest Capitol technology, and are heavily prejudiced against anyone of Seam nature. How Rye was able to get Matilda to see him as a prospect astounded me. Grandmother, on the other hand, hugged him for the first time in either of our lives and thanked whoever that the Mellark name was getting into good graces again. I still find it hypocritical about Grandmother that Rye can date "above his means", but I have to keep my distance from the mayor's sun.</p>
<p>The school, thankfully, is not that far from the Merchant Sector so Valentine and I don't have to talk long. We let our respective siblings walk in front of us keeping an eye on them to keep it proper. I see Valentine stare daggers into Rye's head. Not like she has any room to look down on us; if the rumor mills have any accuracy, I know for a fact that Valentine is more than friendly with the Seam boys in the years above us. I laugh to myself to which I bring upon her annoyance.</p>
<p>"You think this is funny? That Rye is shacking it up with my sister? If your brother is anything like <em>you</em>, I will be damned if Tilly just ends up another notch on his bedpost." Valentine stares me down and smirks at my shocked face. Fine, two can play at this game.</p>
<p>"You know, I never noticed how alike you and your sister are. If anything about Orion Hawthorne and Thom Davis Jr. are any indications, I'd say you and your sister share a penchant for Seam men. So if anything, you and Tilly better watch your backs if Rye is nothing more than a thrilling summer romance and not a serious love match." I let myself relish in her red face for throwing her own dirty laundry in her face. It also fills me with glee that her reaction those names give validity to the rumor mill. I'm too focused on my win that I almost let the lovebird's conversations slip me by.</p>
<p>"So your grandmother never told you what he was there for? Did you at least hear what they were screaming about?" Matilda is a nicer girl than her sister, I'll give her that. But damn, is she the most nosy girl I've ever met. Rye looks a little uncomfortable with those questions so I try to swoop in to change the topic.</p>
<p>"Are you two excited to finally start Upper School? I hear the Capitol sent in more teachers for their Teach for Panem initiative. Wonder what district most of them will be from." Matilda excitedly talks about how she hopes she has a teacher from Districts 1 or 2. Rye stifles a laugh and explains his doubts as most of the teachers who come her are from 10 or 11. Since the population of 12 is so small, we do not have a lot of people who go into the education force. Seeing how the demand for educators were not met in some districts while in other districts there weren't enough jobs, the Capitol initiated Teach for Panem to encourage citizens to join the education field. Those who join are shipped off where they're needed and are given a stipend. Most teachers who come to District 12 leave when the school year is up. The only one I know who's stayed is the art teacher, Effie Trinket who ended up marrying Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's trainmaster.</p>
<p>Our quad makes it to the front of the school. Valentine makes a beeline for her friends trying not to be seen by us. Matilda tries to bring Rye over to her friends, but he freezes up. This is the first time anyone has invited him to a friend group. With Hunter Hawthorne and Matilda being in Rye's life during the summer, seeing them during the school year changes his usual isolation. He looks back to me as if asking for my permission to have a normal life. I give him a nod and he immediately relaxes and follows Matilda to familiar blond heads. It pains me a bit that Rye had to ask for my blessing to have a sense of normalcy. If I could, I would take up all of the hurtful words, comments, and looks from the entirety if Panem if it meant that Rye was spared.</p>
<p>I scan the schoolyard to look for a familiar strawberry blond head, but I my gut feels weird. It's probably first day nerves, but I turn to see eyes staring at me. Their not the comforting blue eyes that I've grown accustomed to over the past ten years. Instead it's the nostalgic gray eyes of Orion Hawthorne. I give him a questioning look and he turns away embarrassed at getting caught. Not much after, Michael Shaffer, the mayor's son, comes up next to me making my heart race faster. We make small talk about our respective summers with him being at the Capitol with his father for business. Our conversation doesn't last long until the school bell rings for homeroom. Let the school year begin.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Michael and I meet up again at our usual lunch table hoping to catch up more about our respective summers. Once we sit down, I start to really look at him. He's one of the most handsome man in District 12 to me. His strawberry blond hair is shaggy and comes down to his ears. His eyes are like those blue gems that he showed me pictures of whenever his father lent him a book from District 1. What I loved most about him was his personality. He's one of the smartest kids in Panem with a rumored IQ of 150, blowing everyone out of the water when it comes to testing. He's half a year younger than me, so when his mother pulled some strings to have Michael test out of a couple of classes, he ended up being placed into my year. With smarts and looks, I would've thought he'd left my companionship with we hit Upper School, but not all is easy for him. As the mayor's son, people had preconceived notions about him being a prissy know-it-all and was ostracized from our peers before he had a chance to prove them otherwise. It's because of that that our mutual bond of outsiders made us such close friends.</p>
<p>"So Will, your birthday is coming up next month. My mother wanted to know if it was okay to invite you and Rye over for dinner. Your grandmother can come too, if she wants." I forgot that my birthday was right around corner. I never thought much about it because sometimes it coincided with the Fall Festival and it's one of the busiest times of the year for the bakery. Even on years they don't fall on the same day, all Grandmother does is give me one of the stale cakes we can't sell in the bakery. Sometimes Rye gathers enough money to buy something from the Hob, a black market in the Seam.</p>
<p>"I'll be sure to ask her. Since it falls on a weekday, the Fall Festival won't ruin my birthday much."</p>
<p>"Great! It would've sucked if you worked on your birthday. Besides," he hold his head up and does an impression of what I think is a Capitol accent "not every year a young girl has a Sweet 16." Sweet 16? Must be one of those Capitol traditions he learned about in his time there. Before we can continue the conversation, Rye slumps into the seat next to me. He looks upset, with his eyes being teary.</p>
<p>"Hey bud, are you okay? Anything wrong?" Sweet Michael always treating my brother as his. I guess you could say I also care for him because he balances me out. Like right now, I'm full of a protective anger over Rye whereas Michael is more of a concerned protection. We hear a group of Merchant boys laughing at each other and giving high fives. When Michael and I stand up, someone beats us to to the punch. Literally. Hunter Hawthrone comes in like lightning and punches who I assume is the leader in the face. The whole lunchroom is silent for a minute before another one of the boys tackles Hunter. Rye snaps out of whatever emotional stupor he's in because next thing I see is him pulling the boy off of Hunter and kneeing him in the stomach. I survey the rumble and calculate my options. There's five boys on the Merchant group and there's Hunter and Rye. Those don't seem like good chances until I see Orion grab one one of the boys fighting his brother and throws punches at him.</p>
<p>I stand still not knowing what to do until I see Valentine and her group cackle at Rye losing against two boys bigger than him. I see red and immediately tackle one of the boys not hearing Michael trying to stop me. I don't remember what exactly happened. I just know that seeing someone attack Rye unfairly made me want to jump into battle. I almost feel guilty as I'm punching the boy's face as a slab of meat, just keep pounding and pounding. Almost.</p>
<p>"EVERYONE! MY OFFICE! NOW!" Principal Crever yells. Michael pulls me off of the boy and I faintly recognize him as Raymond Williams, the butcher's son. Crap, I'm going to hear an earful from Aunt Aurora when she hears this. That is before Grandmother finally kills me and Rye execution style in front of the entire district. All of the fighters stand up and solemnly walk behind the principal. When I stand next to Rye checking for any injuries, Orion comes next to us with Hunter trying to explain the situation.</p>
<p>"Lover boy here, got offended because Thompson and his crew of idiots kept hassling him about their relationship. After Rye told them off, they started calling him a Seam bastard and that-" I stop Hunter not wanting to know more. I don't want to hear what those pathetic excuse of human beings said to my brother. I thought I was doing good making sure Rye stayed out of the radar. It seems like no matter how hard I try, the district does everything in their power to make us the bad guys. I walk up next to Rye to comfort him when I hear Orion walk with me.</p>
<p>"For what it's worth. You throw really good punches for a Merchant. It's also pretty cool how you were able to take down Mountain Williams." he laughs.</p>
<p>I don't know why but my face blushes when he says that. I also don't want to acknowledge how his weird compliment made me feel giddy inside.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I should mention bold+initialized mean that it's a memory. so the first signing paragraph Rye is singing but the boldened part Willow is remembering Katniss's voice. Hope I cleared this up!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry if the story doesn’t make sense or it’s hard to read. I started writing this around 11:45 pm Central time and just ended it at 4:15 am. In fact I actually have no draft or outline of how I want this story to go so ideas, feedback, and criticism is welcome!  Edit: I decided to look over the chapter and change the format and do some editing. Also I would like to thank junipalia for being my first comment and mmabins for being my first kudos! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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